Tales of Two Brothers
by The Wayfaring Strangers
Summary: A series of one-shots about Fíli and Kíli, starting when they are 9 and 10, respectively, and continuing to their deaths. Fourth: Is blueberry jam really worthy of a midnight escapade? And how hard does it hurt when you fall from the top shelf? Will Thorin even be surprised?
1. Closets, Part the First

Kíli was sitting with his older brother Fíli. He was, at the moment, rather bored, which could prove disastrous to the surrounding area...

...Assuming he could get out of this blasted storage closet.

He and his brother- well. Suffice it to say that they were now stuck in a storage closet, having locked themselves in. Kíli was still sure it was Fíli's fault, no matter what his brother said. The younger dwarfling kicked his legs against the wooden bench, racking his brain for a plan of escape, or at least an idea to dispel his boredom. The two dwarves had journeyed to Uncle Thorin's city for Yule, dragged along by their mother, and had spent most of yesterday being underfoot. They had had similar plans for today, until Fíli decided to explore the stupid storage closet.

"Fíli, I'm bored." The younger dwarfling stretched out his foot and drummed it against his older brother's leg, beating out a rhythm fit for a war chant.

"That's the third time you've told me, brother." Fíli turned to face the wall, letting out a world-weary sigh.

"But it's true!" Kíli stretched farther toward his brother, nearly falling off the bench.

"Just because something is true, doesn't mean you have to say it," the older dwarf's voice darkened, "_three times_."

"Don't be grumpy! It's your fault we're stuck in here anyway." The dark-haired dwarfling pushed himself back into the corner, having given up on prodding his brother.

"My fault? How is this my fault? Remind me which one of us kicked the door closed?" Fíli asked, indignation ringing in his voice as he shifted on the bench to face his younger brother.

"But I didn't know it would lock! Who builds doors that lock by themselves, anyway?" Kíli attempted to look innocent and offended at the same time, the result being a rather comical expression.

"Paranoid ones, apparently. Why are you making that face?" Fíli was now looking mildly interested in what his brother had to say, a change from his normal bid to tune the younger dwarfling out.

"What face?" Kíli hastily rearranged his expression into one of confusion.

"It looked rather like... this." Fíli twisted his face into an approximation of the odd expression his brother's had worn previously, looking even more ridiculous than his brother had.

Kíli started laughing.

The younger dwarfling calmed down slightly, and paused, a look of wonder blooming across his face. "Brother, I just had an Idea!"

"Will it get us out of here?" Fíli's tone had shifted from bored irritation into veiled expectancy.

"No, but it will-" The dark-haired dwarfling was rudely interrupted.

"I don't want to hear it. " Fíli was back to his usual disinterest.

Kíli continued on, unfazed. "Let's have a face-making competition! Loser has to explain where we've been to Mother!"

"Face-making competition?" Now the blonde dwarf just sounded confused.

"Yes! We'll make faces at each other! You know, goblin faces, maiden faces..." Kíli trailed off, out of ideas.

"But who will judge?"

"...Never mind about the winning and losing part then," Kíli answered, sounding almost nervous.

"Why? Afraid you'll lose?" The older brother sat up, curious to see if Kíli would accept the challenge.

"Look at my maiden face!" Kíli batted his eyelashes and contrived to appear innocent. He had effectively changed the subject. If they decided to have winners and losers, Fíli would proclaim himself judge, claiming it as his right as older brother. And then Kíli would be stuck explaining their long absence to Mother, who was a formidable force when angry. And she _would_ be angry. Possibly even furious.

"You look like a squirrel, brother." Fíli did his own impersonation of a maiden, batting his eyelashes and flipping his golden locks extravagantly.

Fíli was almost pouting now. He had to say _something_ to get his brother back for calling him a squirrel.

"You only say that because you really do look like a maiden." There was a moment of shocked silence, and then...

"TAKE IT BACK!"

* * *

**Hello, my readers! I'm very happy with this, even though, admittedly, not much happened. You see, I've not written anything for months. I was beginning to think I no longer could. There will be one more chapter to this part, wherein Kíli is forced to eat his words, and Thorin makes an appearance. In fact, the idea that caused me to write this will be in the next chapter, and there will be character change. I would have kept going, but this seemed such a delicious place to stop. The later chapters of this fic should have some bro angst, though I don't have any ideas for a specific situation. Suggestions?  
**

**_Note_**: Fíli is the dwarven equivalent of about ten, and Kíli is the dwarven equivalent of nine. Also, we do not write slash.

Please do tell me what you think, because I'm very curious to know.

~DarthMihi, and RandomCelt (editor)


	2. Closets, Part the Second

"TAKE IT BACK!"

Kíli giggled, even though the voice in the back of his mind was telling him that it would just make Fíli even more angry. But he couldn't help it. The younger dwarfling leapt off the bench and scrambled into the opposite corner, attempting to evade his now-ravening brother. However, they were in a store-room. Now, store-rooms are never very large, and dwarven store-rooms are small enough to warrant being called_ stingy_, so the dark-haired dwarfling was really no safer in the corner than he had been on the bench.

Fíli tackled Kíli to the ground, pinning him securely. The older dwarf stuck his nose a millimeter away from his brother's, growling quietly, "Take. It. Back."

The younger dwarfling decided to play the 'Vulnerable Little Brother' card, and not suffer the shame of having to take back his word. Besides, it was true. Fíli really had looked like a maiden. Or at least, Kíli wasn't going to admit anything else. "Fíli! You're squishing me!"

"So much the better. Take it _back_!" Fíli emphasized his point with a shove.

Oh well. Kíli would just have to try harder. "You're _hurting_ me!" He tried to sniffle a little, to play it up.

"No I'm not... Well, if I am, it's just because you're a weakling."

"I AM NOT A WEAKLING!" Now it was the younger dwarfling's turn to be angry.

Fíli's mouth twitched up. "Then get up."

"But you're _sitting_ on me."

"I know... weakling."

The dark-haired dwarfling huffed, and muttered sullenly, "You still look like a maiden."

"Weakling." The blonde dwarf glowered down at his younger brother, still not appeased. "I will make you eat your words."

"But they're words. You can't eat them." Kíli stared up at his older brother, confusion written on his face. He squirmed, still trying to get free.

"It's only a saying, stupid..."

Fíli trailed off, as a maniacal smile slowly crept up his face. He jumped up, and his hitherto-sat-upon brother breathed a sigh of relief. But Fíli had not relented. He merely had gotten an Idea. The blonde dwarf lugged the wooden bench under one of the shelves, clambered hastily onto it, and began to scrounge through the various objects sitting above his head. Little did he know the great peril which he nearly unleashed, for the shelf was rickety, and waiting to drop onto an unsuspecting head. However, Fíli was preserved from this dreadful fate, for he had much yet to do in Middle-Earth.

The older brother sprang from the bench, having found the implements of his desire. He triumphantly brandished a quill, a pot of ink, and an already-used piece of paper. Fíli plopped down on the floor, and scribbled out "You only say that because you really do look like a maiden." Then, rolling up the paper, and tossing the quill over his shoulder, the blonde dwarf pounced on his younger brother, subduing him again.

"Kíli, I will now force you to eat your words," Repeated Fíli, grinning smugly at the shock on his brother's face.

"But... What? ...I'M NOT EATING THAT!" Kíli's voice slid from utter confusion to near-panic.

Fíli's grin widened. "You have two options: Eat this, or be sat upon forever."

"Forever is a very long time, brother. What if you die?" The dark-haired dwarfling was just stalling now.

"You would die first, because I'm squashing you," Fíli pointed out stoically. Every time this happened, Kíli always tried to stall, or play the 'You're Heartless and Want Me to Die' card. But Fíli was used to it now. Kíli would give up soon.

But he was wrong. Five minutes passed, and Kíli still had not given in. He had even tried to _bite_ Fíli. The older dwarf stared solemnly down his nose at his younger brother, and proclaimed in what had been dubbed his 'Uncle Thorin Voice', "Brother, I have given you ample time to submit, but you have wasted your chance. Desperate times call for desperate measures. I am sorry." With that, he prized open Kíli's mouth, and stuffed the paper in.

The younger dwarfling broke free, letting out a blood-curdling scream, and clawing at Fíli. He jumped up and sprinted around the room. "AUGG! I'VE BEEN POISONED! I'M GOING TO DIE! IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT!" Kíli screamed, without really pausing to consider if any of that was truly the case, which of course, it wasn't, but Kíli had always had a flair for the dramatic. But then, the younger dwarfling stilled, a maniacal light seeping into his eyes, as he had another Idea. He began to chew, mashing the paper between his teeth. Then, he sat there. And sat there. And sat there.

Fíli stopped paying attention after a few minutes of nothing. Now, as you know, neglecting an enemy, when he is in close proximity, and armed, is a serious tactical mistake. However, it would appear that Fíli did not know this, for he continued to ignore his brother.

SPLAT!

A wad of unidentified goo came sailing through the air, and smacked the unsuspecting Fíli on the side of the head.

Silence reigned.

Then, Fíli rose majestically, and strode across the small room. His kingly aura was somewhat marred by the wad of chewed up paper which was now sliding down his head.

Kíli gave a nervous chuckle, and suddenly announced, "Fíli! You... don't look like a maiden anymore!" Fíli continued to advance.

"Aggg! I give up! I'm sorry! I surrender!" Kíli flailed at his brother.

The blonde dwarf paused, considering his brother's offer, if offer it could be called. The silence dragged on. Then, Fíli cocked his head, answering, "Fair enough." He'd had enough of his brother's antics.

"You mean it? No secret grudges, no pails of water in the middle of the night?"

The older dwarf grinned at the memory. "No pails of water. Here." He reached down and pulled Kíli to his feet.

The two sat back to back the the wooden bench, waiting to be found. Another half an hour went by, but, apparently, dwarven store-rooms were sound-proof, for yell how they might, no-one came. Or perhaps, it was simply that no-one wished to release the Holy Terrors, but we shall never know.

"Fíli, I'm bored."

"Fourth time." The blonde dwarf racked his brain. Anything to keep history from repeating itself.

* * *

Outside the door, Thorin stood, listening to his young nephews. Having heard no complaining servants for the past hour, he had gone in search of the two troublemakers. He had found them at last, apparently locked in a small storage closet. The dwarf had been going to open the door, when he had heard his nephews' most amusing conversation. Wanting to hear the rest of it, he had not disturbed them.

"Kíli, look at my goblin face!" Thorin was left to guess what the actual expression had been, but judging by the most fearsome yowl that had followed, it had been fairly accurate.

"Pffttt. That's a rotten goblin face. Look at _mine_." Thorin smiled, imagining Kíli pulling his little face into what would have been a frightening grimace, had he been a few years older.

There was the indistinct sound of Fíli grumbling, and then silence. Thorin quietly unlocked the door, and turned the handle. As he opened the door, Fíli's voice suddenly reached his ears. "Kíli! Look at my Uncle Thorin face!" The door swung open to reveal Fíli with his mouth cavernously wide, as if he were yelling, with brows furrowed deeply. Beside him, Kíli stared up at The King Without a mountain, horror creeping across his face. Fíli's eyes were screwed shut, so wide had he opened his mouth. The younger dwarfling's hand crept up to his brother's sleeve, tugging furtively, but still, Fíli remained unaware of his peril.

There stood Thorin in the doorway, stone-faced, his shadow filling the room.

* * *

_A/N: DUN Duun** DUUUNN! **Does Thorin have a sense of humor? Or are our heroes...**DOOOOMED**? This is part two of three; there will be one more chapter in this arc, and after that, one-shots or two-shots... _**Speaking of which, does anyone have suggestions on what I should write next? **

_**I'm sorry, I tried to post this earlier, but because I first deleted my notice about that spammer (whose stories have now been removed, thank you everyone!) and replaced it with this, FF didn't move this fic to the top of the list. Apparently, they added some feature awhile ago. 'To minimize bump spamming, the act of removing/adding chapter to bump up your story on the listings, we will not modify a story's last updated time-stamp if the same chapter has been removed and added over a certain time period.' Grr. It wasn't the same chapter! I tried.**  
_

_Thank you to everyone who has faved, alerted, reviewed, and archived this fic! But especially to the ones who faved and alerted, because I didn't thank/respond to you individually, unlike my reviewers.  
_

_**Please tell me what you think, is Thorin capable of smiling? Are Fili and Kili OOC? Am I the only one who gets their names horribly confused? Review!**  
_


	3. Closets, Part the Third

Kíli tugged harder at his brother's sleeve, eyes black, nearly whimpering in fear. Surely _that_ would catch his brother's attention?

"What? Is there a spi...der." Fíli trailed off lamely, having finally opened his eyes. He now stared up at his uncle, eyes nearly as wide as his brother's. He was going to _catch_ it. Everyone knew that Uncle could not bear to be mocked.

Thorin stood still, his face a perfect mask. Inwardly though, many questions were chasing through his mind. Did his two nephews really see him that way? As a ravening beast-goblin? Had he ever even made face anything like that around them? He was hard-pressed not to laugh at the utterly terrified expressions on the two little faces beneath him. What did they think he would do? Swallow them whole like the Beasties in the bed-time stories? But there were still two petrified dwarflings sitting at his feet. He needed a reaction _now_.

"Up, boys." He held out a hand to each of them.

The brothers watched his hands mistrustfully, alternately shooting glances at each other.

"Well, time we were going," Said Fíli, abruptly standing without the help of his uncle's hand, and pulling the still-petrified Kíli after him. With that, he sidled past Thorin, and it seemed that the two trouble-makers would escape, until older dwarf neatly snagged the back of his tunic.

"No you don't, lads. Come, your mother will be looking for you." Thorin kept his voice colorless, not wishing to give away his amusement to his nephews. He would tell Dis...let her decide what to do with her impudent off-spring. _Uncle Thorin face indeed_. He snorted, not missing the way his nephews shot him twin guilty glances.

They walked in silence for some time, until Kíli, unable to stand any more silence after having spent the better part of his day surrounded by it, spoke up softly, "Uncle Thorin?"

"Yes Kíli?"

Kíli _still_ couldn't tell how much trouble they were in. Was Uncle Thorin angry? He didn't sound angry, but then again, he didn't sound anything else either. The younger dwarfling chickened out.

"Nothing", he mumbled.

Thorin raised an eyebrow, but chose not to comment.

The long passageway stretched out before them, and they passed on, leaving nothing but the echoes of their feet behind them. A minute later Kíli piped up again. "Uncle Thorin?"

"Yes, lad?" There was _something_ in his voice this time. '_Oh dear. I've gone and made it worse by bothering him'_, thought Kíli. Really, it had been amusement in their uncle's voice, but Kíli was certain they were in trouble, and heard what he wanted to.

Fíli took over, sensing his brother's timidity. "Where are we going?" He sounded to his uncle like a wee dwarfling who stole a cookie and got caught red-handed. The older dwarf hid a smile in his beard.

"To your mother, Fíli," he answered calmly.

Two small shoulders slumped, and two pairs of feet dragged guiltily.

The three continued on, lapsing into silence again. Thorin had released his nephews hands, knowing they would follow, but now they lagged some ten feet behind. Then Thorin heard the whispers, echoing up the passageway from behind him.

"Kíli, since you failed to complete the face-making competition,the unpleasant duty of telling Mother what happened falls to you." Thorin idly wondered what Fíli sought to gain by going about his pronouncement so officiously.

"But making an Uncle Thorin Face wasn't part of the contest. I would _never_ have been _that_ stupid." Even though they were whispering, and no doubt under the impression that their uncle had no idea what they were saying, the older dwarf could hear the tone of superiority in Kíli's voice, but also a slight hint of whining. That just made him want to laugh all the harder. His two nephews kept up their whispered bickering, Thorin wondering all the while how they could possibly think their little squabble would go unheard.

"Shhhhh!" Hissed Fíli, the echoes carrying far down the passage.

"Don't shush me, it echoes." Kíli whispered back.

"Do you think Uncle can hear us?" Thorin wasn't sure which one had said that.

"Of course not. He would've yelled at us for sure if he could." That had been Fíli, always eager to reassure his younger brother. Thorin was was constantly surprised by the brother's closeness, despite their constant spats.

"That's a comforting thought."

"Shutup." A pause, and then, "You still have to tell mother."

"No! You're my older brother... you're supposed to protect me."

"I _am_ protecting you." Fíli paused, thinking up a way to justify his claim. "I'm...preparing you for the real world," Fíli pronounced with certainty. Thorin nearly lost it at that. Real world indeed. They were both still children.

"But you're my brother, you'll always be there to protect me. Right?" Kíli looked up expectantly at his older brother.

'_Drat_,' thought Fíli. there was no good way out of this one. "Of course I will." He squeezed Kíli's shoulder affectionately. "I'll be right behind you when you tell her, and I'll make that face that always melts her heart... You'll be fine."

_'Consider the moment ruined'_, the eavesdropping uncle thought.

"But... You said... **Fíli**!" Kili was both infuriated and confused. "You can't DO that!" He stomped, refusing to keep walking. Thorin felt his laughter bubbling up again, and before he could stop himself, it spilled out as a deep chuckle that rippled down the passage, causing a passing dwarf to peer worriedly at the three of them. Thorin _never_ laughed.

Except now, apparently. His two nephews stood frozen, gaping at him as if they were a pair of fish stranded on land. Thorin laughed harder.

"Thorin? Are you quite alright?" Thorin's sister peered anxiously into his face. Part of him wondered when she had gotten here.

Dís had been looking for her trouble-making sons, when she had heard deep laughter, and glancing down the passage, had seen her brother, chuckling merrily, with her sons in tow. "Fíli! Kíli! What did you do to him?" Dis whirled on her two boys. They must have done _something_, for Thorin never laughed like that, or at least he hadn't in a very long time. But it was Yuletide... Perhaps her brother had had a bit too much mead.

"Ah, Dís. Here. I believe you've been looking for these." Thorin said, having mostly gotten himself under control, and only chuckling slightly now.

"It was his fault!" Kíli babbled, pointing a narrow finger at Fíli. Dis doubted whether he had actually heard her question at all. Always looking for a way out, her Kíli.

"I am not concerned with who started it. Come with me, the both of you." Dis did her best to look stern without looking angry.

Her two sons stared forlornly up at their mother, before shuffling after her. It would appear she had failed on the 'not looking angry' part.

"Oh come now, Dís. It's Yule. Don't be like that. Besides, they didn't do anything," Thorin soothed his sister.

"Don't mess, Thorin. I'll do as I please," Dis replied, pride coloring her voice.

Thorin shrugged, as Dís turned, sweeping down the passage, sons in tow. She was proud like that, his sister. After her husband's death, Thorin had offered to provide for her, but Dís was born a princess, and would not accept charity, even from her own brother. "I am strong, Thorin," She had said, insisting on living by herself, and raising her sons alone. He understood that, not wanting charity; it was Dwarven Pride, not taking from others, though they offered freely. In fact, he could hardly blame her for it. He would have done the same... that didn't mean he never worried for her, though.

Ah well, at least she came every year at Yule, bringing her two sons with her. His nephews were another reason he wished she would stay with him. They were his heirs; someday, one of them would be king, and he wished he was able to better prepare them for the role. But Dís was adamant that they could learn later... She was so stubborn...

But enough, he had an important question he must answer. No more standing in thought. The lordly dwarf turned, striding down the passageway to the nearest mirror.

Thorin faced his reflection, observing the usual dignified expression his face wore. He attempted a warlike scowl, and watched as his reflection grimaced back at him. Hmmm... how was he supposed to see what he looked like making the face his nephew had if he couldn't force himself to make an expression anywhere close? He tried again, but this time it only appeared as though he was squinting into the sun.

A different face appeared over his illusionary counterpart's shoulder. Dís? What was she doing here? He would have a hard time explaining this one: The King Under The Mountain making faces at himself in a mirror as if he were but a featherbrained child.

"Thorin? What...? ...I care not if it _is_ Yule, you have had too much ale. This is why you shall _not_ train my boys."

* * *

**A/N: ****Yay! This little arc is finished! I feel like this chapter is rather blah though. Nothing _happened_. But it wouldn't write any differently, I did my best, I really did. Maybe it was because I wrote most of it in Thorin's POV... Also, **_Awesome art of Dis: fav . me / d5ptsxy **Warning: will form head!canon.**_

**Guys? Can you do me a huge favor? Can we get the story to 75 reviews on this chapter? Then this story would be on the 3rd page of most reviewed fics in the Hobbit archive. I don't really expect that, though it would be awesome... this chapter was so blagh.**

**So speaking of reviews, the 50th reviewer gets one request. Request = review on your story, doing your prompt, submit a line you want us to use, something like that, but whatever you want... within the bounds of reason. :) 60th reviewer (should we get there) will get 2 reviews on their stories+1 request, and if they don't have stories, 3 requests.**

* * *

_**To my anon reviewers: **_

_**Guest: Haha. Neither would I. I'm glad I made you laugh. That was the plan, to quote Loki. Thanks for reviewing! **_

_**v: I'm glad you noticed the shocked silence. I was proud of that line. Thanks for the review!  
**_

* * *

Was Dis in character? Is Thorin off his rocker? Please let us know! What will happen in the brother's next adventure?

_~DarthMihi and editor RandomCelt_


	4. Of The Perils of Jam

**In this chapter, Fili is eleven in dwarf years, and Kili is ten in dwarf years. It's a year later than the last chapter. **

* * *

It was an insult, Fíli decided, to be sent to bed this early. He was eleven now, and he could stay up as late as any dwarf. It wasn't fair! They were going to miss all the good stories. He lay in bed, watching light from the candle flickering on the ceiling and stewing.

"Kíli?" the older brother hissed. He could see the outline of his brother under the blankets, thanks to the candle his mother had left in their room, but he couldn't tell if Kíli had been bothered enough to stay awake. He had a most irritating habit of falling asleep at all the wrong times.

The pile of blankets stirred, and Fíli was answered with a slightly groggy, "What?"

Good, he was awake. "I think we oughtn't have been sent to bed."

"Ngg. I _like_ this bed," Kíli murmured sleepily, rolling over.

'Well', Fíli thought, 'I'll just have to persuade him more... _actively_.' With that, he slid out of bed and padded around to the other side of Kíli's bed. Prying open his younger brother's eyes, Fíli peered into his face, whispering, "We're going to miss all the good food, and the stories, and... and - don't you _care_?"

"No, I'm tired. And you're annoying, so I won't do anything you say. ...Besides, that won't even work. We can't just walk back in there and sit, Mother will notice us, and then she'll send us back to bed," Kíli grumbled, irritated at being disturbed from his beauty sleep.

Fíli paused. "True, but we can go down to the kitchen. And we can eat jam! ..._Blueberry_ jam." Kíli sat up. "You think so?" The younger dwarf sounded much more awake now. Amazing what a promise of blueberry jam could do.

"Won't there be dwarves in the kitchen though?" Kíli's excitement dimmed.

"No, silly. They'll all be in the feasting hall, feasting. That's what they _do_ at Yule," the flaxen-haired dwarf explained.

Kíli was persuaded. He slipped out of bed, joining his brother. Snagging the the candle from the bedside table, he stealthily followed his brother to the door.

As the two brothers crept down the passageway, the candle in Kíli's hand threw tall, swaying shadows across the finely carved stone above the two dwarflings. Kíli felt suddenly very tiny, as though he had tiptoed into a legend; the golden candle light seemed to be holding more at bay than just the darkened passage. Kíli could almost see the dragons, coiled and watchful, and the mounds of beautiful golden things glinting away in the shadows. Maybe, he thought,_ this_ was why Uncle Thorin wanted desperately to take back a faraway mountain, and why the old dwarves sang deep, echoing songs late at night as they sat around guttering fires.

The candle flickered, and his thoughts turned back to the sticky sweetness of blueberry jam... And the wrath of his mother, should they be caught.

"Almost there," hissed the older dwarf. They peeked around a corner, and seeing nothing, came to their long-desired destination: The Kitchen.

After five minutes of fruitless searching, Kíli was beginning to doubt the wisdom of this little escapade. It was hard to find _anything_ with only the light of a candle - let alone something so well-guarded as jam.

"Bring the candle over. I think I found The Pantry!"

The dark-haired dwarfling hurried to oblige his brother, who was standing before a narrow doorway on the other side of the room. Kíli held the candle aloft, watching its flickering light diffuse into the darkness. Fíli pushed past him, entering the blackness as yet unreached by the candle's light. Kíli followed, ignoring the way his steps dragged. A part of him still feared the dark.

The floor and lower shelves revealed nothing of interest: sacks of flour ans sugar, roots and tubers, and jars and jars of preserved vegetables. But above them, nearly out of the light's touch, glass jars glinted, like the gleaming hordes of treasure in the Lonely Mountain, waiting to be reclaimed. There was no dragon to guard this treasure, but none was needed, for the brothers could not get to it. Anything of value was on the upper shelves. The blueberry jam was up there too, gleaming mockingly. Fíli pursed his lips in thought, while his younger brother strained his ears, nervously hoping no-one else would come looking for a midnight snack.

Fíli began to pace, but Kíli only shrank farther into the pantry to hide the candle's light. "Stop pacing, would you? You're making me nervous."

"Oh hush. You're always nervous. Besides, you wanted blueberry jam, and this is the way to get blueberry jam," the older dwarf pointed out logically.

"We could just ask for some to tomorrow," Kíli replied hesitantly.

"That's the worst plan I've ever heard, and I've heard a lot of worst plans from you." Fíli sighed. "I guess I'm the brains and the brawn of us," the older dwarf added, attempting to look manly and contemplative to back himself up. Fortunately for the flaxen-haired dwarf, it was dark, so Kíli never saw the odd combination.

"Well then Sir Brains, come up with an Idea, instead of insulting me, why don't you?" fired back the irritated Kíli.

"I have an Idea, because unlike certain people, I can talk and think at the same _time_," boasted his older brother.

"When were you going to tell me this Brilliant Plan, or were you just going to stand there and flap your jaws at me?" shot back the now offended Kíli.

"Don't be hurtful, or I'll never tell you my Plan, and then you won't get any blueberry jam."

"Unless I ask someone tomorrow." However, Kíli seemed to have little faith in his own plan, for he soon added, "What's your Plan?"

"Do those shelves look climbable to you?" Fíli inquired.

"Well... Yes? But what does that have to do with your Plan?" the younger dwarf asked nervously, for he thought he already had a fairly good idea.

"We use the shelves as a ladder!"

"But... aren't we too heavy?" Kíli questioned, an undercurrent of uncertainty in his voice. He already disliked this Plan.

"I am, but you're not. Up you go! Remember, all in the name of blueberry jam," Fíli encouraged, without even waiting to see if his younger brother concurred with his idea.

Kíli pushed aside his uncertainty, and handing the candle to his brother, stepped forward. Pressing on the lowest shelf experimentally, he scrambled onto the wooden surface. So far, so good.

Now, anyone who has tried climbing shelves will have realized a problem with the brother's plan at this point. Shelves are not built to be ladders, so they do not recede as they rise, and are therefore quite the challenge to climb. However, Kíli was quite acrobatic in his youth... for a dwarf, that is.

The dark-haired dwarfing ascended slowly, sliding his knees onto the shelves for better purchase, and using the pads of his fingertips instead of trying to dig into the smooth wood with his nails. He was close, so close now. Kíli twisted awkwardly to avoid hitting his head on the ceiling, and clung to the shelf above him. There it was, within his reach. Letting go with one hand, he shifted his weight and, stretching out his hand, claimed the jar of blueberry treasure. He withdrew his arm, and to his horror, felt the rest of him move backwards too. He tried to right himself, but it was too late. The shelf was rushing away and the stone floor was fast approaching.

He was falling.

He fell through a frightened cry, dimly registering that it was his own, and then his breath was forced out by a sharp pain crashing up through him, and his older brother's worried cry of, "_Kíli!_"

The younger dwarf stared up through a haze of pain. Fíli was beside him, taking his hand and demanding to know if he was hurt. Kíli thought it was rather obvious. Absently, he decided never to move again. The dark-haired dwarfling wished for his mother. She would know how to make it stop hurting... Fíli was good, but he was always bad at making Kíli feel better. His gaze strayed across the vaulted ceiling, detachedly noticing the fine build. Uncle Thorin always had been thorough... His mind began to wander.

"KILI! Can you hear me? I'm going to get someone. Stay here... and don't die while I'm gone. Please?"

As if he even wanted to move... Wait, Fíli thought he was going to_ DIE_?

"Stay?" the younger dwarf murmured, his fingers twitching in Fíli's hand, and a plaintive note in his voice.

Fíli desperately wished to stay with his brother, but Kíli needed _help_, and he didn't know what to do. The older dwarf picked up the candle and placed it near his brother. It was all he could do for now.

He felt wretched. This had happened because of him - Kíli had just wanted to stay in bed. Nothing would have happened to his little brother if he hadn't wanted to go prowling around where he shouldn't. Sure, Kíli could be annoying, but he was Fíli's younger brother, and therefore it fell to the older dwarf to protect him, not convince him to do something as stupid as climbing shelves. He should have known, he should have _known. _Fear whispered on the edges of his mind, and doubts slithered in. Was Kíli seriously injured? Nothing this bad had happened to either of them before...What would Mother say? Was Kíli angry at him? The older dwarf wrapped his arms around himself, a frown settling between his brows.

Fíli turned away from the candle to the kitchen's entrance, only to start. A rich humming floated down the hall - someone was coming. There was only one dwarf in the blue Mountains with a voice like that - one that wafted images of gold and deep halls. He froze, unsure whether to hide or rush out, pleading for help. But doing nothing was an action, for the humming dwarf slipped through the door, stilling as he stared at Fíli - standing in the door and outlined in a candle's light.

* * *

Thorin stopped humming, mid-note, and stopped walking, mid-stride. Across the fire-shadowed kitchen stood a dwarfling, framed by the light of a candle that should not have been there. There were few dwarflings in the Blue Mountains, and even fewer in his halls. The youngster before was frozen in shock - or indecision - and a halo of mussed gold clung to his head. Even though his face was cast in shadow, Thorin knew who stood before him.

_Fíli. _

And where Fíli trod, it was more than probable that Kíli tagging behind. "Alright. Come out, you two." Thorin expected his two nephews to come to him with heads hanging in shame, and some sort of mumbled excuse to spread over their being up at such an hour. But that is not what happened. Instead Fíli rushed to him, checking himself just before his uncle, as if he had been about to rush into his arms.

"Uncle! Kíli fell off, and I think he's hurt, and I don't know what to do, and I didn't mean to, but -" The words came out in a jumbled rush, so that Thorin struggled to understand them. What had they been _doing?_ Surely a pantry was not a dangerous environment... He looked closely at his older nephew's face, seeing the little one's face crumple in anguish, and the fear rimming his eyes.

Thorin stood a moment as he processed all of this. Kíli was hurt? He... fell from something? His mind spun tales, circling along wild paths... Fear and worry coiled within him, twining together into a towering chord.

"Come," Thorin commanded, dragging the near-crying Fíli by the hand, and striding toward the candle light with the air of a king gathering his troops for the last stand.

The sight that met him put his swirling doubts mostly to rest. Kíli was sprawled on his back, staring up dazedly at the ceiling. He looked as though the wind had been knocked out of him, though he couldn't have fallen from more than five feet. Thorin felt relief spring within him like a living thing, throwing down the coils of doubt and worry. In a few strides, he was beside his nephew's side, making sure that there was nothing serious - nothing a good story couldn't smooth over. "Kíli, lad, would you mind explaining this?" Thorin did his best not to sound stern, and not to give in to the smile tugging at his mouth. Kíli's eyes traveled to his uncle's face, looking rather abashed. "...I fell," the dark haired dwarfling murmured, his voice still quiet and and twisted by lack of breath.

Thorin nearly pressed as to why he was even climbing... the shelves? But then his eye caught the gleam of glass tucked in between one of the sack on the floor, and looking closer, he saw a jar of jam nestled there. Ah. Jam. He hid a smile in his beard. These were indeed his kin, for had he not come seeking the same?

"Uncle?" The dwarf in question glanced about before his gaze landed on Fíli. "Yes?"

"...Are you angry with us?" In all honesty, the elder dwarf hadn't considered exactly what he was in regards to this situation. If it were not his duty to be something other, he would have been amused by it. But Fíli had allowed his brother to do something as foolhardy as climbing up shelves... Truly, climbing shelves! Dwarflings were such a hassle. Who would ever climb a shelf? But Kíli had, and Fíli had let him.

"That depends. Fíli, you understand that Kíli is your brother - your kin - you mustn't let him do foolish things like this," the dwarf king responded.

Fíli stared at his toes, and then responded quietly, "I told him to do it, Uncle." Thorin took a breath. Hm. "Fíli. He is your brother, your younger brother. Your charge. You must not set him to a task that you yourself will not attempt." Thorin's voice was solemn and roughhewn, but his eyes smiled then. "It is good that you told me."

His heir nodded mutely, and silence lay across the room for a moment.

"Come, we can't be caught abroad by your mother at this hour." Thorin swept Kíli up into his arms, trusting his brother would follow. His youngest nephew squirmed a bit, obviously not expecting that. Absently, Thorin decided that dwarf children were much heavier than they looked. He readjusted his grip on Kíli, feeling the young one's warmth against him, and tucking Kíli's head into the hollow of his neck.

* * *

Kíli stared at his brother over Uncle's shoulder. He was feeling better now - it was easier to breath. He had dimly registered that Fíli had gone to get someone, but why Uncle? His brother was strange. But Uncle didn't seem to be angry, and he hadn't even asked what they were doing. The dreadful thought that he somehow knew stole over Kíli. He wouldn't put it past his uncle; he seemed to know _everything._ But he wasn't angry. In fact, he was almost as good as Mother would have been.

Until last year, Kíli had though Uncle must be made of stone. But he had laughed, thereby proving otherwise. And now, the younger dwarfling could hear his heart, it's pulse slow and steady – unchanging. In that respect, perhaps uncle was made of stone. It seemed to Kíli that someone so strong must never be swept away in the tides of Time, and would always go on so without changing or faltering... or dying. The young dwarf nestled his face against his uncle's neck and closed his eyes, exhaustion setting in. He was safe here.

* * *

**_A/N: Blurg. I. Don't. Like. This. chapter. I had to drag it out of me, kicking and screaming. Seriously, I've never had to work this hard to write... I've never tried fluff and family bonding cute stuff before. _**

**_How'd it come out? Was Kili acting too young for his age? Did he turn into Victim!Kili? I hope not... What say you? Do I flop on family bonding? Cuz that's what it feels like... _Please review! **

**~DarthMihi and editor RandomCelt**


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